


Last Train Home

by EmberFluff



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Violence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberFluff/pseuds/EmberFluff
Summary: Based on a shared prompt with two excellent content creators: "Jealous and possessive Keatlejuice where the boy goes feral"
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77





	Last Train Home

Please see the other participants of this prompt:

The super amazing [ClairJohnson](https://clairjohnson.tumblr.com/) and her story [Night Out](https://clairjohnson.tumblr.com/post/620299685472747520/night-out-this-is-based-off-a-loose-prompt-of)  
My lovely writing friend [Hoodoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo/works) and her story [Roses and Rot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24623443)

** Last Train Home **

The muffled clacking of the train tracks blended with the beat of the song blaring from your headphones, your head bobbing in time with the rhythm a bit mindlessly.

People entered and exited the train car, barely paying attention to anyone else around them, keeping their heads buried in their phones to avoid eye contact with another human. It was always a long ride from your office to your small neighborhood station, but there was something fun about being the only person left by the time your stop was called.

Well, the only _living_ person.

If you were feeling particularly _anxious_ after a long day at the office, you had a direct line to the best tension reliever this side of the mortal coil. It was a mutual arrangement between the two of you; he was always looking for an excuse to traipse around the mortal realm for a while, and in return you had gotten - you couldn’t resist the pun - _otherworldly_ sexual gratification. Nevermind the fact you were getting pleasured by a man who perpetually looked like he crawled fresh out the earth every time you summoned him; he might have been just on _this side_ of rotting corpse, but that was a moot point when his face was firmly buried between your legs for _hours_ on end.

You had arranged a meeting this very evening for that express purpose and could already feel the warmth spreading down your neck into your stomach at the thought of being alone with him at the next station. With a glance across the car, you spotted him, bouncing his past-their-prime boots on the floor impatiently, his head bent low under the brim of his hat. He was unassuming as anyone else without his garish striped suit; just another passenger along for the ride, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long, heavy coat.

A glint of yellow caught your attention, his dark-rimmed eyes somehow catching the flickering fluorescent bulb in the corner, staring at you with nothing less than _hunger_. Feeling bold, your tongue darted out to lick at your top row of teeth in response, pleased when he shifted in his seat at the display.

You could be frisky when the mood struck you.

Turning your attention back to the music in your headphones, you leaned your head back against the window, feeling the train begin to slow down to a stop. Per usual the last straggling passengers of your route were heading for the doors, ready to depart for the night.

Unlike most nights, a few new passengers _entered_ the train car before the doors slid shut, stumbling forward and grasping onto the poles for balance. Three - well dressed - but clearly inebriated businessmen were talking far too loud for the small space the occupied, breaking through the noise of your contained music. You could almost _feel_ the irritation vibrating off your companion in the far corner, knowing he had planned to jump you the moment the train started to move.

You gave him a non-committal shrug, to which he responded by grumbling loudly and sinking down into his seat.

The men on the train were jabbering on about something or another; not really holding your attention until one of them wobbled his way over to stand in front of your seat. He cleared his throat loudly, reaching down and tapping the earpiece of your headphones.

Startled, you looked up, grimacing when you noticed just _how close_ he was standing over you. Needless to say, it was _more_ than a little awkward to get an eyeful of some stranger’s crotch up close.

“Hey…” The man slurred, turning back toward the other two and shushing them as they snickered at him. “Shut up! Lemme talk…”

You moved one of the earpieces backward, setting it behind your ear, “…you mind?”

“Nah nah, I don’t mind. Don’t mind talking to you, sexy.” He continued, unaware of your tone. “I see no rings on your fingers, baby. Poor thing like you shouldn’t be alone on this big, scary train. When do you get off?”

“…at my stop.” Frowning, you put your headphones back into place.

Undeterred, he reached down and lifted the device off of your head, “Do ya… wanna _get off_ now?”

Before you could reply, the man was thrown backward against the opposite side of the car, crashing into the seats with a pained groan. Instead of a stranger, you found yourself staring up at one ghostly guide: casually standing there with one hand in his pocket, the other holding your headphones. He seemed rather calm, but you _knew_ what was bubbling beneath the surface.

“What the _fuck_ , man?” One of the men went over to help their friend up, while the other started advancing on Beetlejuice.

Beetlejuice held up a finger, signaling the man to wait while he turned toward you with a frown, “Babycakes, these pricey?”

He waved the headphones around, and you nodded head in response, “Too expensive for my own good.”

“Perfecto.” Was all he said before he _started_.

The man who had paused his advancement was first, the ghost barreling forward into him like a quarterback on the field, jamming his free hand deep into the man’s stomach and dragging him down the length of the train car. You could hear the ribs cracking as they tried to support the full weight of his body, Beej’s full hand buried into the man’s chest, tossing him into one of the corner seats. Feebly, the man tried to stem the flow of blood that spilled from the wound, but it was ultimately useless; his screams of agony amplified by the metallic siding on the walls.

The two other men noticed their friend in peril, but could do little to help him. Beetlejuice grabbed the second man by the scruff of his collar, sweeping his leg underneath him to lay him flat on the floor.

“I would’a told ya there’s no hard feelings, but I’d be lying.” Beej lifted his boot, giving the man a swift kick to the face, a few teeth scattering.

As much as you wanted to look away, you _couldn’t_ ; transfixed by the ease at which he inflicted such pain on these unlucky strangers. This wasn’t the first time you’d been subjected to his carnage, his lust for _bio-exorcising_ as he was want to call it. This man - creature? - had the ability to truly cause mass chaos and destruction during a spout of boredom; and yet not _once_ did you ever feel threatened.

No, you felt _pride_.

A _sick_ , unhealthy pride that you could have this man doting on you at a moment’s notice. Little things reserved for behind closed doors. A small touch when you weren’t paying attention, walking arm in arm when no one was around late nights in the park, and he even brought _food_ for you on several occasions. It wasn’t gourmet, but it was edible.

But now? Now he was a beast let slip from his collar.

Beetlejuice had the man who approached you on all fours, his nails digging into the back of the man’s head as he held him down, “Listen, when a fine lookin’ lady tells you to fuck off, you _fuck off_. Comprendo? This girl is _mine_. _M-I-N-E._ Don’t need jackoffs like you sniffin’ around her skirt like a dog, ya hear me?”

The man babbled something through his terror, and you gave him a hard stare, “I’d answer him, if I were you.”

BJ lifted the man’s head up, shifting him over a few seats down from where you sat, prying his jaw open and forcing him to bite the edge of the hard, plastic bench.

“Babes, you feel he learned a lesson?” He asked, smiling with a mouthful of jagged teeth.

After a long pause, you shook your head, “No.”

With a satisfied chuckle, he winked at you, “Ah, that’s why I love ya, baby. Ya know just how to make me _smile_.”

Taking a half step back, Beetlejuice jumped up, grabbing onto the bar near the top of the train car, using it like a pullup bar at a jungle gym. With a garish _“yee-haw”,_ he let go of the bar, planting both boots on the man’s skull, cracking his jaw wide open with a loud _squelch_.

The force of the blow sent blood spraying _everywhere_ , much more than all those horror movies would lead you to believe. As the spray coated a good portion of the left side of your body, your mind recalled a summer in your early years, and a particularly hostile water balloon fight. Similar feeling, morbid as it was; at least you had the forethought to turn your head to avoid getting any of the stranger’s blood on your face.

“Whoa. Split like a rotten tomato, didn’ expect it.” Beetlejuice chuckled, kicking over the body with amusement. “Must’a been rotten all inside.”

You didn’t respond to him right away, taking a moment to examine the damage done to your clothing. It would all have to be destroyed, of course, but it was a small price to pay for the security of knowing you wouldn’t be traced back to the murder of three random people.

“Aw, darlin’, dont’cha worry about your fancy duds. You know ol’BJ will fix you right up with something _special_.” He reached down, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze with his bloody hand. “But first, we gotta get out of here, ya know?”

So much for keeping your face clean.

Blinking slowly, your gaze flicked around to the three bodies prone on the ground, before the train seemed to melt away around the both of you like a Dali painting. When you could focus again, you were back in your own apartment, sitting on the edge of your bed, with Beetlejuice looming over you with an odd look on his face. His hand squeezed your jaw tightly, his thumb smearing around the blood on your cheek.

“Ya know… I don’t wantcha takin’ the train anymore. Fact, don’t wantcha going much of _anywhere_ alone anymore. What if I wouldn’a been there? _Huh_? You comin’ home smellin’ like cheap booze and bad aftershave from their dirty paws all over you? Nah, not happening.” His nails, chipped and unkept, were biting into your skin the longer he spoke. “No girlie of **mine** is gonna be dirty before she gets to _me_.”

You shook your head, trying to dislodge him, “ _Yours?_ When did you feel the need to take ownership? _Feelin’s are wasted on the dead._ Did I mishear you all those times? Oh, suddenly you’re a knight in shining armor when _other men_ are watching-”

He growled, shoving his thumb into your mouth, pressing on your tongue to stop you from talking. You almost gagged at the taste of iron and grave dirt, but you obeyed the silent command, keeping still and trying desperately not to think about the fact it was someone else’s blood on his hands. As much as you hated yourself in that moment, you were more than willing to what he wanted of you. Just hearing him call you _his…_ you were embarrassingly turned on despite the violence that preceded it.

Such a small act of compliance told him all he needed to know, as it _always_ did. Laughing, he pulled you up by the jaw, forcing you to stand awkwardly between him and the edge of the bed. Removing his hand from your face, his tongue took the place of his thumb, crushing his mouth against your own. It was a dizzying, sloppy mess of a kiss, your lungs already burning with the need for air within moments. The mossy, earth taste of him was familiar, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t an unpleasant thing at first. It was like sour candy; it bit your tongue like acid, but you were always hungry for _more_.

There was no pretense to this encounter, no soft touches and foreplay; you both wanted each other _right then_ and damned be the consequences. With a spin of his body, you were against the bedroom wall, his hand already tugging impatiently at the zipper of your jeans, while you scrambled to help him slide them over your hips and down your legs. Once free, he pried your legs apart with his knee, keeping you pinned to the wall with a hand on your throat. Beetlejuice’s other hand unzipped his own fly, not bothering with anything beyond freeing his own arousal from the within the confines of his trousers.

He was mumbling something you couldn’t understand, suddenly miles away as his teeth bit at your jaw, positioning himself with a practiced ease between your legs. You dug your fingernails into that ratty coat of his when sheathed himself inside you, the impact of his hard length impaling you knocking all air from your lungs. You let out a scream at the painful sting, but you had known this wasn’t going to be comfortable. That wasn’t the _point_.

Your eyes fell shut when he picked up his pace and rutted into you like a possessed animal, focused on keeping himself as deep within you as he could. He knew _exactly_ how to thrust into you to make you squirm, but there was something _different_ about him. He was near crushing you with his body, not wanting any part of you to be untouched by his larger form.

“Goddamn… fuckin’… jackoffs…” BJ was mumbling again, his long tongue running along your jaw, “Yer _mine_. _My damn thing._ They… gonna’ know… they’ll see ya… so full up.”

“What?” You managed to gasp, desperately fighting for air.

“ _Mine_!” He growled in response, removing his hand from your neck to bury it into your hair.

Sharp pain rippled through you when he bit down on the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. It clicked with you right then… he wasn’t just doing this for himself, he was maddened with lust for _you_. Because **you** belonged to him.

Beej sped up even more, shuddering and breathing heavily when he neared his climax. He was fucking you relentlessly; repeating _mine_ over and over again. With a few more agitated thrusts, he tossed himself over the edge, burying himself as deep inside you as he possibly could as he came, his hard member coating your tight walls, throbbing and pulsing inside you.

A moderate sense of satisfaction spread in your entire body, even though you hadn’t gotten off during the quick encounter. He went still, his softening length still inside of you, and rested his forehead against yours.

“You’ve _alwaysbeen mine.”_ He replied, an unexpectedly soft tone to his voice, his hand giving your hair a playful tug. “And ya’ know it.”

You weren’t going to disagree with him.

In fact, you were _relieved_ when he acted possessively toward you on the train, having worried for a long time that anything between you had been one sided. Despite his obvious shortcomings, he was good company. He was a good _fuck_ too, but that was just icing on the cake.

“Could’ve just _told_ me.” You mumbled.

“Oh, quit’cher _bitching_. You liked it.”


End file.
